


I'll Ruin You

by sterica



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Bisexuality, Canonical Affair, F/F, F/M, mentions of canonical rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-24 00:25:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4898386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sterica/pseuds/sterica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Everyone can do horrible things, that’s what makes us human. Maybe to Eve, humanness is the capacity to be hurt, but Annalise knows that it is the ability to hurt, to harm, to ruin. Why else do temples tumble down if not for the efforts of humankind? Why else do little girls get violated before they know what the word even means? Annalise knows that it is inherently human to cause a ruin." </p><p>Annalise and Eve at Harvard: the beginning, the middle and the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Ruin You

**Author's Note:**

> title comes from Marina and the Diamonds' "I'm A Ruin"
> 
> trigger warning: there are a lot of references to Annalise being raped as a child within this fic.

_"Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us. / These, our bodies possessed by light. / Tell me we'll never get used to it."_

\- Schehrazade, Richard Siken

* * *

When Annalise starts at Harvard, she thinks she’s ready for anything that the world could throw at her. She’s already survived so much that Harvard seems like the path away from her struggle, a road towards her good life. She’s not naive enough to think that she’s old enough now to know the world perfectly, she just thinks that she’s got better at navigating mazes, pushing her way through all the shit that is thrown at her. She’s got this far, after all. She isn’t Anna Mae anymore. She isn’t a scared little girl. She knows how to manipulate now: how to use sex and intellect as tools and ensure that she comes out on top.

She’s going to use everything she has to be successful. She wants to live in a big house, a house that won’t burn to the ground like it was nothing, a house that won’t be a scar permanently etched upon her mind. Annalise is going to be someone that no one messes with. Annalise is going to be the thing that scares people: that makes them sort their own messes out.

Law makes Annalise realise that everyone can do horrific things. As a young girl, she thought the monsters were strange men in dark alleys, men that she would never have anything to do with. Now she knows the horrible truth: that monsters are the people that we know. Monsters are the people we let into our homes, who we trust enough to let sleep on our couches. Monsters are those that we thought would love us, protect us until the end.

Annalise knows that anyone can be a monster. Even herself.

.

Annalise scans her Criminal Law 101 class with a skeptical eye. To her almost all of them look the same: ambitious, rich, likely to burn out before they even take the Bar. All of them coming from identical families, with identical rich white Dads who only have to snap their fingers to get them to where they want to go. Annalise looks down upon them with scorn: she fought to get to Harvard. She fought her way up from the status of a poor black girl, looked down on for any number of things. Sexism, racism, classism: these have been the obstacles she’s climbed over. What hurdles have her fellow students had to jump? She’s been fighting since she was a little girl. Since Uncle Clyde- no. She’s moved on now, she won’t let the past define her or leave scars. That’s for the weak ones, Annalise thinks. Or maybe, maybe that was for Anna Mae - the girl she left behind.

Not everyone in the class fits the description that she hates. There’s a young woman who has been allocated the seat beside her. Although she's quite clearly got money to burn, she seems like someone who knows how to fight to get on top. From the times the Professor has called upon her neighbour in class, Annalise knows that this woman’s surname is Rothlo. From inputting the surname in the student database, she knows that her neighbour’s name is Eve. Annalise intends on using that information in the future. It could be something to do with the fact that on the rare occasions where she zones out during class, she’s thinking about threading her fingers through Eve’s hair and pressing their lips together. It could also be because this woman is intelligent and Annalise knows how to use that. She hasn’t decided.

Annalise has known for a long time now that she’s been bisexual. The only reason being attracted to Eve is scary is because it feels like a loss of control. With men, she feels as though by wrapping a hand around their cock she’s in complete control - they lose their senses. With women, she isn’t yet sure how to play it. Sex as a form of control may be very different when it comes to sex with women: she hasn’t had chance to discover that yet, not getting past secretive kisses, in abandoned classrooms, with girls trying to work out their sexuality on a live subject. Eve, though, is pretty clearly comfortable with her sexuality. Annalise has overheard her talking to a friend about an ex called Claire and she’s talked about male exes too. Annalise knows with Eve it’ll be different.

She doesn’t make conversation until second year, in a different class. Eve is sat next to her again and Annalise decides she can’t pass up that opportunity again. Besides, midterms are coming up. The exams are nothing Annalise can’t handle, but a little extra help in the form of a study partner could go a long way. Besides, from what she’s seen of Eve she’s the only viable form of competition she’s got. The class hasn’t yet begun, the Professor running a few minutes late, so Annalise turns to her left.

“Hey, Eve, isn’t it?” she says, as though she hasn’t previously gone out of her way to find out this woman’s name.

Eve jumps slightly, as though she’s shocked. She might well be, seeing as Annalise has been a silent neighbour for every lesson for almost a year now - too absorbed in taking notes to take note of anyone around her.

“Yeah.” Eve says, a cautious look on her face. Annalise wonders whether this woman is as guarded as she is. She wonders whether that’s a good thing or not. “And you are…?”

“Annalise. I was thinking, seeing as you’re pretty much my only competition around here, we should get together to study sometime.” Annalise doesn’t miss the blush that raises on Eve’s cheeks.

She doesn’t break eye contact and neither does Eve. There’s something strange about how electrically charged something as simple as looking into another person’s eyes can be. Annalise feels as though looking away would be a failure.

“Definitely.” The response eventually comes. “Give me your email, I’ll get in touch.”

Annalise does just that, while wishing she was the one with the other’s contact details: so she could have control. Relinquishing it makes her feel uneasy, even when she could only have control over the smallest of things.

Class starts and she can’t stop herself from sneaking furtive glances at Eve. The only thing that makes that less embarassing is that she keeps catching Eve doing the same thing. It makes her feel wanted - it makes her feel as though she is already taking back some control.

She wonders what could happen with Eve. She worries prematurely that things won’t go as planned, that she will create yet another ruin.

.

Annalise is in the library when Eve emails. It's been three days since their first conversation and Annalise hasn’t stopped checking her inbox since. She’s using one of the library’s computers when she hears a tell-tale ‘ping’ and immediately moves from attempting to write her essay to her inbox. She has an email from Eve.

 **Are you free today?** it says simply.

 _Yes._ Annalise replies quickly.

 _All I’m doing is sitting in the library and pretending to study._ She sends off another message, wanting to give an explanation instead of hastily agreeing to whatever. She wants to seem interesting.

**I’ll pick you up in ten. Meet me out front.**

_What are we doing?_ Annalise emails back, but she doesn’t get a reply. 

Annalise isn’t sure why she’s dropping everything for Eve. She could knuckle down and actually get finish her essay, or review her notes for countless lectures. Instead of doing that, she gathers all her stuff and is outside the library five minutes after the conversation ended ended. She realises that it makes her look like she’s waiting, so she makes a move to duck back inside the library before she sees Eve’s head sticking out of a car window.

She walks up to the car and waits for Eve to park, following the other woman’s directions to get in the passenger seat and buckling herself in before she gives herself permission to look Eve in the eye.

“Where are we headed?” Annalise asks.

“I’m buying you coffee.” Eve replies, eyes fixed on the road. “I’m not studying with you until I know something about you.”

Annalise tries to hide the smile on her face. This doesn’t feel like control. But this also doesn’t feel bad - it just feels new. They make small talk on the drive: Annalise learns that Eve’s parents are split and that she’s got two brothers. Annalise reveals little about her own family, just that she isn’t in touch with them much. Eve seems to get the hint and allows the conversation to move in a safer direction.

True to her word, Eve buys Annalise a coffee. They take a small table in the corner of the shop, the seats almost forcing constant eye contact. The topic of conversation turns to their future careers.

“I’m going to be a death row attorney.” Eve tells Annalise, with such conviction that it can’t be doubted for a minute. From what Annalise has seen of Eve, it’s not going to be a challenge for her to get there.

When Eve asks Annalise what area of law she wants to go into, she hesitates. She doesn’t know as certainly as Eve does what she wants to do - certainly she hasn’t known it since she was ten, which is what Eve has just told her.

“I used to want to help people.” Annalise says honestly. “Realistically, though, in Law…”

Eve smiles. “That’s why I want clients from death row. I want to help them.”

Annalise raises an eyebrow. “You do realise not all of them will be saints? There’ll probably be a good reason that a lot of them are there.”

“Even if you just help one person, it’s still worth it.” Eve counters. “And it’ll feel pretty good being the reason someone doesn’t die.”

Annalise agrees. “I guess I just want to do what I can do, then. I’m not going to lose sleep over my clients being murderers.”

“God, no.” Eve laughs. “You’d kill yourself within a year of starting to practice.”

“Everyone can do horrible things.” Annalise says, hating herself for how serious her tone becomes. “I think that’s what makes us human.”

A shadow passes over Eve’s face. “That’s a very sad thought.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

They mull it over as their cups of coffee go cold: untouched, abandoned.

.

Annalise is afraid. She knows what humans are capable of: she’s seen it herself. And what’s more poetic than a ruin falling into something else and knocking it down? She could hurt this woman so very easily.

She pulls up Eve’s contact information on her email  There’s a profile picture attached in which Eve wears a wide smile and a jumper that matches her eyes.

 _I’ll ruin you_ , she thinks looking at the picture. She doesn’t say it with malicious intent: she merely says it with certainty. She already knows the score.

She begins her apologies before she even knows what they will be for.

.

Their coffee date is followed by a study date the next week. Neither have been officially deemed ‘dates’ but both have felt like it. There’s been flirtatious undertones, accidental hand brushes and hugs goodbye, hugs that last longer than platonically necessary. Annalise is practically itching to touch the other woman. She has to curl her hands up, pressing her nails into her palm to stop her reaching out. She doesn’t want to seem desperate.

The study date goes well. They’re both on top of the material so they fly through quizzing each other, only having to look over a few minor details. When they’re done, Eve suggests they order a pizza and wanders through her apartment to look for the landline.

It feels quite intimate for Annalise to cast her eyes around Eve’s living space, properly taking it in now that they’ve stopped studying. The sheets of paper and textbooks spread around are the only signs that it’s actually lived in. Annalise’s apartment is the same - as a law student there isn’t much time to make a place your own. She wonders, though, how she could come to make her existence known in this foreign space.

When Eve comes back, she suggests they both move to the sofa. Annalise sits down, testing to see what the woman will do. This time, she can’t hide the smile on her face as Eve sits down next to her, their thighs not only touching, but pressed close together. Looking up, Annalise sees that Eve has set down a bottle of red wine and two glasses on the table.

“I found it in the cupboard.” is the explanation received. “I figured we may as well drink it.”

In response, Annalise uncaps the bottle and pours into both glasses, taking one for herself and passing one along. She takes a sip and savours the taste for a second, letting the flavour be the only thing in her mind. She wonders if Eve tastes as good. Looking over, it seems as though Eve is wondering a similar thing, her eyes darkened and pointedly looking at Annalise’s lips.

Annalise puts her wine glass on the table. She reaches towards Eve’s glass and takes it from her, putting it down, their hands brushing as she does so. Without speaking, without really thinking, she takes Eve’s face in her hands. For a moment, she just gazes into her eyes, as though silently asking: _do you want this? Is this okay?_ There’s no response in the negative. Annalise feels like her lips are on fire before anything has even begun.

When their lips touch it feels like every cliche you could ever imagine. Like fireworks, or like the world suddenly became brighter. It feels like every birthday and Christmas rolled into one. But it also feels special, different: it feels like red wine on the back of her tongue, it feels like the smell of cinnamon and the sound of light rain on a rooftop. It feels like Eve is writing poetry, making art. It feels like something that was meant to happen.

Eve's lips are soft, yet the way she uses them makes them feel firm. She's gentle, but there's something that indicates that she's not afraid to be strong. Annalise's hands entwine their way into Eve's hair, holding on like letting go would be a sin. She can't remember the last time she felt so free whilst trapped in another person.

It doesn’t feel like a relationship destined for ruin. Not when they’re so tightly entwined.

Although it starts gentle, it soon grows into something more passionate, more frantic. Holding onto hair turns into tearing off clothing, to mumbled instructions to " _take it off!_ ", to instructions that are followed.

It's the first time Annalise has been in Eve's apartment. The room she becomes most intimately acquainted with is the bedroom. Sex with Eve doesn’t feel like control, it feels like convergence, like similarity, like safety, like comfort. Annalise begins to wonder whether control really is what she needs.

When she leaves the apartment the next morning, there's a pizza outside the door with a note on top.

_You owe us $10. Sounds like you had a fun evening._

Neither of them stop laughing about it for the rest of the day. Annalise goes by the pizza place that day with the money and can’t look any of the employees in the eye.

. 

They fall into a relationship pretty easily after that. It’s rare that a day goes by when she doesn’t see or at least text Eve. They’re both swamped with work but they still manage to find the time to talk to each other, even if it’s just snatches of conversation between lectures or a _“Goodnight”_ or _“Good luck”_  text, depending on whether sleep or studying all night is on the agenda. Eve begins to use the nickname ‘Annie’, Annalise begins to use touch to say hello.

Annalise finds herself staying at Eve’s apartment more than at her own. She has a drawer full of clothes and a toothbrush there, something that never fails to make her smile when she sees the way it rests against Eve’s in the bathroom. She never saw herself as someone who would be part of a domestic couple, but now she’s kissing Eve on the cheek as she heads off to the library and telling her what time she’ll be home. Home. She uses the word without thinking. Neither of them comment on it.

Flashes of Anna Mae start to come through the cracks, as Annalise begins to let Eve in. Sometimes, just for a second, there will be an utterly haunted look on her face that she won’t explain to Eve, no matter how much she begs. It doesn’t come out for a while. She won’t let it, at first.

But Annalise allows herself to be vulnerable around Eve. Eve is the person she goes crying to when she loses her first mock trial. Eve is also the person who stays up all night helping her prep for another mock trial, and the person who makes her come seven times the night that she wins. Eve is the person who leaves a flaming bag of dog shit outside the local DAs house after he tells Annalise he’s scared of her and Annalise cries on her lap all night. Eve denies it, but Annalise knows that no one else would do that for her. Eve is almost her protector.

Eve begins to learn everything about Annalise. She knows that she doesn’t like surprises, that she’s afraid of losing control. She knows that Annalise doesn’t talk to her mother and that there’s something she won’t forgive her for. One day, the conversation happens.

They’re on the sofa, Eve’s head resting on Annalise’s shoulder. There’s a glass of whiskey in Annalise’s hand that she knocks back, pretending that it doesn’t burn the back of her throat. It’s Eve’s whiskey and Annalise knows that the other woman can afford it, just as Eve knows that Annalise won’t bring up money unless she absolutely has to.

“I was raped when I was a girl.” Annalise says suddenly, causing Eve to move her head and look her in the eyes. She doesn’t say anything yet. “It was night. I was in my bedroom. My Uncle Clyde… we’d taken him in. He told Mama he needed a place to stay, just until he got back on his feet. She couldn’t turn down family.”

Eve takes the glass from Annalise’s hand and sets it down on the table. It reminds Annalise of the night they first kissed, of the tenderness of touch even with such a simple gesture as removing an object. The brush of fingers can sometimes feel more intimate than any other act.

“He must have thought I was asleep.” Annalise reflects. “I don’t know if he would have had the courage if he knew I was awake. I kept my eyes shut tight, I thought he might go away if I did that. I remember hearing the rustle of sheets as he pushed them back and put himself on top of me, I remember…”

Abruptly, she stops. She’s saying this all in a monotone voice, like she can’t access the emotions behind it for fear of everything falling apart. Eve is holding her hand, rubbing her thumb across it in a comforting gesture.

“I remember…” Annalise picks up again. “I remember everything about that night. My Mama never did anything. I don’t know if she even knew. Even if she didn’t, there’s no excuse. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop hating her for not protecting me.”

There’s a long pause in which the thought process is evident in Annalise's eyes.

“It didn’t last long, though. He was a drunk, and a stupid one. He burnt our house down to the ground with himself in it. I remember thinking, I remember thinking that he couldn’t just destroy me, he had to destroy the house too, he had to destroy everything we had…”

Eve sits up straight. “He did not destroy you. You are not a ruin.”

“Look at me.” Annalise sobs, the tears finally flowing against her will. “Look at how he made me.”

“You are not a victim, Annalise.” Eve says. “You’ve been hurt, you’ve been abused, but look how strong you are.”

“I’m crying on my girlfriend’s couch.” Annalise says, through tears. “I’ve come crying to you about something that happened over ten years ago.”

“Hurting makes you human.” Eve says. “I know you told me that being able to do horrible things makes us human, but I don’t think that’s it. Being hurt is more human than doing the hurting.”

“I let him change me.” Annalise says. “I let him make me into a shadow that I had to turn into something else.”

“He didn’t change you.”

 “My real name is Anna Mae.” Pause. “I couldn’t live as that girl anymore. I became someone else.”

Eve tightens her grip on Annalise’s hand. “I don’t know Anna Mae, but I’m sure he didn’t ruin her. It’s okay that he made her scared - that doesn’t make her weak. Who I do know is Annalise, what I know is that I love her.”

It’s the first time that the word ‘love’ has been said between them and it doesn’t feel wrong that it’s at such a horrible time. Annalise moves forward, presses her lips to Eve’s and lets the sensation help her forget for a minute. Uncle Clyde was the past, this is the present. This could be her future: that’s something she can hold onto.

“I love you too.” Annalise says after she pulls away. “Thank you.” She doesn’t need to clarify what she’s thanking her for.

Annalise stays the night. They don’t have sex, but Eve pulls Annalise close and the comfort of her arms around her is like nothing Annalise has ever known.

.

“I think you should see a therapist.” Eve says the next morning over breakfast.

Annalise doesn’t respond.

“I know, I know that you don’t want to talk it over but if you don’t it’s going to become a part of you that you can’t get rid of.” Eve sighs.

“I can’t afford it.” Annalise replies, staring down at a coffee stain on the table, rubbing at it with her finger. It’s a viable excuse, but Eve isn’t having it.

“I’ll pay for it.” Eve replies. Seeing the look in Annalise’s eyes, she continues speaking to block a reply. “Don’t refuse me, Annie. I want to do this for you. I _have_ the money.”

“I’m not going to take your money to fix a problem that I don’t know if I can fix!” Annalise snaps, surprising even herself.

Eve pushes her chair back, stands up. “I’ve got a lecture. Think about it. Let me know.” She begins walking away but turns back halfway to the door. “Annie, please think about it. This could do you so much good.”

.

Annalise accepts. She accepts because she’s scared of a future in which she’s so tied down by a memory. She accepts because she desperately hopes there’s a way to rid herself of mental scars. She accepts because she can’t remember being able to refuse Eve anything.

It’s ironic, really, looking back. Eve was the one to suggest Sam Keating be her therapist. A friend of a family friend had gone to him, said he was brilliant, that he knew exactly what he was doing. Eve sorted the whole thing out.

Eve never asked how the sessions went. She only wanted to know that she had helped.

.

Walking into Sam Keating’s room for the first time, Annalise’s whole body is shaking. Eve is the only person that she’s talked about the rape with before. It seems so impersonal, so clinical, to talk about the worst thing that has ever happened to her with someone that she has never met. She almost doesn’t go, almost turns around and pretends the whole thing never happened. The thought of Eve, the thought of how much Eve wants to help, presses her on, makes her walk into the room.

Sam is nothing like she thought he would be. From the minute she lays eyes on him it’s like he knows her inside out. Not in a bad way - it’s comforting. It’s as though he can see right within her and knows all and judges nothing. His smile begins to represent some kind of escape, although from what she isn’t quite sure. Isn’t her life almost perfect now? Why should she need escape?

Their first session, she doesn’t know how to bring up why she’s there. She doesn’t have to.

“So, who was it who raped you?” he asks nonchalantly, shocking Annalise who had been staring at her hands. “A family friend? An uncle?”

Annalise raises her head, looks him in the eyes. “My Uncle.”

“Can you tell me his name?” Sam asks.

“Clyde.” Annalise mutters. She doesn’t know how he knows this about her, but she’s glad that he was the one to bring it up. She might not have the courage to raise the subject a second time.

Sam talks her through talking him through it. By the end of the session she’s managed to narrate it with only a few tears finding their way onto her cheeks.

It isn't much, but it feels like progress.

.

She meets with Sam once a fortnight. She hates meeting with him even that often, hates being reliant on Eve’s money. She knows that Eve likes doing this, likes feeling as though she’s helped, but Annalise just feels powerless because of it.

There are now two people currently in her life who know of Anna Mae, the girl who was scared enough to run away and change her name. One is paying for her to get help; one is being paid to help her. She doesn’t know which of them make her feel the most on edge.

The relationship with Eve progresses slowly, steadily. It’s a comfort to have someone to go back to after a long day of classes, and someone to spend long nights with. They find a local Brazilian bar and spend the whole night there, drinking so much that Annalise vaguely remembers vomiting over the bar and onto the bartender. It’s only the one time they go there - they can’t face the staff again. There are other places; other memories to be made.

And that they do: they make countless memories. Memories of pointless conversations that turn into inside jokes that are indecipherable to anyone else; memories of nights that ended in blacking out drunk; memories of congratulatory sex after passing midterms, finals, winning mock trials.

Annalise feels as though they truly become a couple when all of their friends can’t seem to mention one without the other. Annalise and Eve. That’s who they become.

.

There’s a ring on her therapist’s finger. There’s a picture on his desk of him with his arm around a smiling woman in white. She’s about his age, beautiful, white, evidently successful. Annalise wonders about this imaginary woman, this person who exists in Sam’s world but not in Annalise’s.

She wonders even more about this woman the first time she kisses her therapist.  

It’s something that she wishes she could say she immediately regrets. But she doesn’t. There’s so many reasons that it can’t happen: Mrs Keating, for one. Eve - oh god, _Eve_ \- for another. And then of course there’s the fact that she’s his client - many would say he’s taking advantage of her.

She’s fought with Eve that day. Something trivial - she doesn’t even know how the fight begun. But she’s angry and upset about it and that helps give her justification to discount her as a reason not to do it. Even then, Mrs Keating and their professional relationship doesn’t stop them. Maybe nothing ever could.

A heated kiss turns into Sam fucking Annalise on his desk, Annalise’s hand clawing out to overturn the wedding photo, her eyes flickering shut in pleasure or to block out the sight of his ring. She doesn’t quite know which.

Briefly, she thinks of Uncle Clyde hovering over her, the stench of whisky on his breath, the rustle of the sheets like the sound Sam’s trousers make as they slide down. She dismisses this, though. She often remembers Uncle Clyde when having sex with men - although she never has with Eve. It’s just a memory brought back by a similar sensation, except, with Sam, she wants it. Anyway, Uncle Clyde raping her was about power over a frightened little girl; this is about lust and attraction.

She doesn’t go back to Eve’s that night. She wakes up to three missed calls that she doesn’t answer. The next day, she justifies not answering because of their fight. They resolve it with wine and sex, sex that leaves her feeling empty and like a monster. Like a ruin.

.

At first, Sam and her only have sex in his office. This way, there’s a pretense. She’s walking into the office because she wants help, because she’s his therapist. This way, she feels as though it’s okay. Maybe this time she’ll walk in and sit down and not get up for the remainder of the session, not until the hour is up and she walks out of the door having talked about what’s going on.

Sleeping with Sam makes her feel like she’s in control. This is something she didn’t have with Eve, something that she didn’t miss until now. Sex with Sam isn’t better or worse, it’s just different.

Annalise continues seeing Eve, acts like nothing is wrong. In the back of her head she thinks to herself that they never specified monogamy, but she knows that that was always implied, always the foundation of their relationship. How can she deny a foundation that she spent months thinking she would never break?

Everyone can do horrible things, Annalise thinks to herself, that’s what makes us human. Maybe to Eve, humanness is the capacity to be hurt, but Annalise knows that it is the ability to hurt, to harm, to ruin. Why else do temples tumble down if not for the efforts of humankind? Why else do little girls get violated before they know what the word even means? Annalise knows that it is inherently human to cause a ruin.

.

When Sam and Annalise start meeting in motels, there’s no saving them. She knows now about his wife: they’ve spoken briefly about her. Annalise sometimes takes the photo of her out of Sam’s wallet while he’s in the bathroom, traces her fingers along the woman’s curves, thinking, wondering _what does this woman have that I do not? How can I make myself into her mirror so he will want me?_

Sam knows about Eve, but he doesn’t seem to care. Maybe he doesn’t have to question what she has that he doesn’t: he knows in what way he is superior. All men surely see maleness as superior, Annalise thinks.

Sam is the first one to indicate that he might want something more than an affair. He calls Annalise ‘Annie’, like Eve does. He begins to conjure images of them living in his home. One day, he says, he’ll inherit his parents’ home back in Philadelphia.

“There’s a good law school there,” he says, “Maybe one day you’ll teach law.”

Annalise can’t imagine it. The thought that he is imagining their future together makes her feel things she can’t quite describe. On the one hand, this is the life she’s always dreamed of. Big house, big dreams. It could be so easy. On the other hand, there’s Eve. Eve who cares, Eve who is paying for her therapy sessions, Eve who has never let Annalise down.

Eve’s face blurs on the nights Annalise spends with Sam. Sometimes it’s almost as though Annalise doesn’t know what her girlfriend looks like anymore. The less time she spends with her, the more she seems to fade away.

Annalise knows that this isn’t fair. She also knows that she’s not ready to make a decision yet.

It turns out that the decision is made for her.

.

“I missed you.” Eve says as she opens the door to let Annalise into her apartment. Her eyes flick down to her lips but she doesn’t make a move: Annalise wonders if this means she knows. Part of her hopes she does: it removes responsibility.

“I missed you too.” Annalise replies absently, placing her coat on a chair and making her way over to the sofa, like she’s used to. Like this is normal, like it’s still okay for her to pretend that Eve is the only person she touches with intent.

Eve doesn’t sit down. “I think we need to talk.” she says quietly, arms folded, a serious expression on her face. This is her lawyer posture and it scares Annalise slightly.

Annalise knows how to play situations too. She turns to Eve, a worried yet casual look on her face, as though she thinks it may be something bad yet can’t imagine what it may be. In her head, Annalise is shouting. She knows.

“Sure.” Annalise says. “What is it?”

Eve stays silent for a second. “I feel like we barely see each other anymore. God, I feel so needy saying this but I can’t remember the last time you stayed the night. Annie, I miss you.”

This is so much worse than Eve knowing about the affair. It’s worse because it means that Annalise has to make a decision: does she tell her, does she not? She sits there silently, staring at her girlfriend, a woman who may not have that title for much longer.

“Oh God.” Eve says. “You didn’t… You haven’t?”

The question doesn’t have to be completed for Annalise to know its meaning. She’s almost relieved that Eve has worked it out so fast. Of course, she’s intelligent. She wouldn’t let herself be strung along for long.

“I’m sorry.”

“Who was it?” Eve spits, composure suddenly gone. Her arms unfold and hang in the air, as though she wants to grab, to tear - but she doesn’t.

“Sam.” Annalise says. “My therapist.” She clarifies. There are other Sams in her life, although surely none that would be a viable partner.

“God.” Eve says. “You _bitch_.” There’s real venom in that word, real hatred and hurt mingled together into something that Annalise knows she rightly deserves.

 _I thought I’d ruin you_ , she thinks to herself. _I told you humans were monsters_. She doesn’t say it out loud. It wouldn’t help. It never does.

“I’m sorry.” Annalise says again.

“Don’t you dare say that again.” Eve hisses. “God, how could I have been so stupid?”

“This wasn’t on you.” Annalise says. “This is me.”

“You’re even trying to control how I feel about this.” Eve replies, “Don’t tell me how to feel after you’ve… after you let your therapist fuck you. How many times? How many times have you been together? Did you ever let him fuck you and then come home to me?” She stops suddenly. “But this was never your home. So you can go.”

Annalise doesn’t get up from the sofa. “Eve, can we at least talk about this? If you just calm down-”

“I am not going to calm down.” Eve says. “Don’t treat this situation like it’s okay. I loved you, Annalise… Fuck, I still do. And I can’t look you in the eye. So, _go_.”

Annalise stands up, grabs her bag, picks up her coat. She stands by the door.

“I still love you, Eve.”

“The fact that you have to say the word ‘still’ tells me how meaningless those words are.” Eve shoots back.

“This is something we can fix!” Annalise yells as Eve propels her out the door. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop seeing Sam, I’ll stop therapy, I’ll stop everything for you.”

“It’s too late for you to say that.” Eve tells her through the crack in the door as she holds it almost shut. “I thought you were going to be the last person I loved.”

The door closes. Annalise sits outside for an hour before she stops shaking enough to get up and leave.

She goes to Sam that night, lets him fuck her in his office, pretends Eve’s name isn’t teetering on the edge of her lips for the whole time. It doesn't make anything okay. 

.

Annalise still sits next to Eve in one of her classes. The hour passes in silence, but at the end Annalise pulls Eve aside.

“Please just hear me out for one minute.” she says quickly, before Eve can get away.

“No words will change what you’ve done.”

“I know. Hear me out.”

Eve doesn’t move, stands still, arms folded. Annalise takes a deep breath, ready to begin a monologue about how sorry she is, about how Eve deserves better, about how she’s going to make it right. She opens her mouth and realises that she has nothing to say. How can she explain how she cheated on a woman she’s in love with? They had their downs, they’d had their fights, but that never made Annalise stop loving her.

“I always thought I’d ruin you.” Annalise says, tears beginning to fall. Her throat closes up, her eyes blur. “I think it’s in my nature.”

“Don’t you dare try and pull that shit with me.” Eve is crying, but her voice barely wavers. “Don’t tell me that you hurt people because you’re human. Don’t pretend you’re philosophical. What you are is heartless, Annalise.”

“I know.” Because that’s all she can really say, isn’t it? “I wish I could say sorry so many more times.”

“I believe you.” Eve says. “But none of that is enough.”

How can Annalise argue with that? She walks away, not being able to look at Eve for even a second longer, because it means confronting the fact that the hurt look in Eve’s eyes is all her fault.

.

She calls Sam, eventually. She hasn’t since the night of her break up with Eve. It scares her that he’s almost like an afterthought: is that really how much this affair meant to her?

“I’ve ended things with Eve.” she says. “I’d like to try to…” she trails off, not knowing how to put it.

“I have a wife.” he replies.

“I don’t care.” she says. “I’ll make you forget her name.”

It’s a promise that she breaks, as he keeps returning to the woman who Annalise despises, despite never having met. Maybe for a brief while she can turn Sam to her, but he seems to always return to this woman.

It’s the curse of the adulterer, she thinks. Maybe being unfaithful means there can never be anything real. Maybe she’s being punished for doing what she did to Eve. Annalise tells herself that she has to make Sam hers: if she doesn’t, this will all have been for nothing. She tries to lure him in, gives him everything his wife won’t. Surely if her focus is only on him, he’ll come running?

There are worries, of course. What if he only wants her because she’s broken? Is he someone who takes in birds with broken wings only to have the satisfaction of seeing them fly? Annalise doesn’t want to be characterised by her past. That's the whole reason she’s not called Anna Mae anymore.

.

It’s almost the beginning of third year when Sam promises Annalise he’ll leave his wife. It’s a term in when he actually does, when Annalise is privy to phone calls with the sound of a hysterical, crying woman on the other line.

Sam makes her happy. That’s her justification.

She doesn’t think about Eve now.

(That’s a lie, of course. But if she says it enough times, maybe it will become true. After all, Annalise now believes in the version of the truth that hurts the least.) 

**Author's Note:**

> watch episode 2 air and my headcanon be ruined
> 
> i'm on tumblr @ walshtons, please come and cry about htgawm with me


End file.
